


Good Morning, Magpie

by Corvin



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Drug Lord!Bane, M/M, Matchmaker!Damian, Size Kink, Teacher!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvin/pseuds/Corvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in the orphanage, John always knew he wanted to make the world a better place - through Education! Getting to the hearts of troubled kids like himself and giving them proper values.<br/>And so he teaches in one of Gotham's schools. </p><p>It's Parents Day, and one of his most favorite students brings their dad - Drug Lord Bane.</p><p>Notes:<br/>- The kid doesn't actually have to be Bane's, it can be adopted or Talia, whatever you'd like<br/>- I think it'll be cuter if it's a kindergarden teacher, but it's your call<br/>+10,000 points for Awkward Bane Courting (refurnishing the teacher's lounge when he finds out their fridge broke and things like that)<br/>- I'm a flexible gal, Bane can be a weapons merchant, too</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you may be saying, "but Rachel, you're too drunk to be posting another story when you're only three chapters into another." 
> 
> and I'll reply, "yes, yes I am." 
> 
> Btw, this bullshit is unbetaed. I literally wrote it and copy-pasta'd it and posted it.

_I’m an understanding person. I’m helping kids. I’m making the world a better place for them._

Robin John Blake repeated his personal mantra to himself under his breath.

 

He usually did this when he was having a bad day and felt like quitting, taking off his pants, and hiding under a couch. Bad days tended to happen on week days, when he was tired. It was Monday morning,  the coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge was still broken.

 

He breathed slowly through his nose, trying to calm his rising temper. One misstep and his whole mood would be a downward spiral. It was a bad thing to happen in his occupation. The young minds of Kindergartners were tender and delicate, and he only ever wanted them to see his ‘happy face.’

 

During the night the janitor had straightened up the classroom. He’d swept away all the crumbs from snack time, picked up all the toys from the play area, and removed all the paper clippings.

 

He flipped the light switch and saw the result of the lovely Alfred’s hard work. John smiled, forcing serenity into his mood.

 

The walls were decorated with yesterday’s labor. Big posters made from construction paper, crayons and glitter, all showing the children’s families.

 

His eyes went to one in particular.

 

Little Damien Al-Ghul’s poster painted a confusing picture of his home life. It looked like a warehouse that was populated by shadows and ghosts, but at the very front were Damien, and three larger figures. He knew one, the woman, was his mother, but the other two were unfamiliar men.

 

One of them was twice the size the other and made almost entirely out of glitter.

 

John stared at it for a few moments, wondering who was the father and who was the uncle. But then the children began to trickle in, so he tore his eyes away and began to greet them all.

 

They were all chattering excitedly about what they were going to show their parents at the Parents Night. Technically Open House wasn’t for another couple of months, but John knew how much the children liked showing off what they could do.

 

Timmy Drake was already proficient with cursive.

 

He’d hit the jackpot as far as classes went, so the kids were ahead in his class schedule, so they were allowed to work on more art and decorations.

 

John smiled at everything they ran up to show. By the time they went home for the day, the room was a bigger mess than the day before.

 

He sighed and shook his head.

 

_I’m helping kids._

 

-.-.-.-

 

The parents came in one by one. Most of them were under the impression that their own child was the most special snowflake in the whole world and damn anyone who thought otherwise. John was glad that he didn’t have to give them grades; he didn’t envy Mr. Kent who taught the sixth graders down the hall.

 

He smiled broadly, waved goodbye, and began straightening up his desk. Damien’s parents were next, and if he remembered correctly, Talia seemed like an uptight, poisonous woman with a sweet lady mask.

 

He’d met her the week before school started, when all the teachers and parents were supposed to meet face to face and get to know each other. She’d seemed less concerned with how her son would do in school, and more so in frightening John.

 

If anything, she only made him more concerned for her son.

 

John took a deep breath when the door opened, ready to make the entire conversation about the little boy and not about his masturbatory habits. (If she thought that would phase him, she’d clearly never met Selina the PE teacher.)

 

He looked up, but it wasn’t Ms. Al-Ghul in the doorway, looming and ominous. John mentally superimposed glitter over the form, blinked rapidly, and then pasted a smile on.

 

“Hello,” he said in his most bubbly tone. “It’s wonderful to meet you, I’m Mr. Blake.” He stood and move around the desk, holding his hand out.

 

The stranger towered over him by nearly a foot, and stared down at him with expressionless, grey eyes. John couldn’t tell what the rest of his face looked like because it was covered by a scarf.

 

All of him was dressed inappropriately for the time of the year. A black, fitted suit under a charcoal overcoat made him look huge. Whether it was muscle or fat, John couldn’t tell, but his ears started burning and when found himself completely dwarfed standing next to the man.

 

“Bane.”  He didn’t take John’s hand.

 

“…Right.” John shoved his hands into his pocket and went back to his chair. “Are you here for Damian?”

 

“Yes.” Bane glanced around the room, gaze zeroing in on Damian’s poster. For a moment his eyes crinkled, but then he turned to John at the expression melted away. He walked in the rest of the way, his presence filling up the room, and sat down.  

 

John waited for him to say more.

 

…But he didn’t.

 

He cleared his throat, “Are you his father?”

 

Bane glared at him, as though the question was offensive. “I’m his legal guardian.” His voice sounded a little odd—too old for his face, accented and exotic.

 

John shifted, “but you’re…” He hated feeling flustered. It made him feel frustrated, and being frustrated pissed him off. He couldn’t say ‘not the father’ because that would sound rude. Did it matter?

 

Oh God, what if Talia was just a surrogate? What if Damian was being raised by a surrogate and a couple?

 

“Talia had him when she was sixteen. She signed over guardianship to me, so he is legally my son.” Bane leaned back and stretched his long, thick legs out. It was almost humorous in a room full of mostly miniature furniture.

 

It sounded like there was more to the story, but John pressed on.

 

“Well, I’d like to start with telling you that he’s a very bright boy. There was a little trouble at first; he’s got a little bit of a temper, but I think he was just adjusting. After the first few days he started to calm down and he seems to be making a few friends.”

 

In truth, Damian had nearly killed the class rat, broken a window, and tried to physically attack John. The whole thing was practically a reenactment of John’s childhood, and he’d empathized so much it hurt.

 

He’d kept the boy in at recess, they’d talked, wept, hugged, and then Damian went through the rest of the class without destroying anything.

 

It had been a bumpy ride, but a full month into the semester, Damian was thriving.

 

Bane nodded, as though he’d expected nothing less.

 

“You can probably see his Family Poster from here. It’s the one with the giant spot of glitter.” He looked at it, and from the desk it caught the light just so. It flashed brightly against the rest of the pictures.

 

John smiled, “He was really excited for tonight.”

 

Bane looked over at it and once again his expression softened. That time when he turned back to John, it stayed on his face.

 

It felt like approval and it bolstered his confidence, so John perked up.

 

The rest of the meeting went…smoothly. John babbled about Damian, shuffled papers to show off his work, and at the end of the meeting he pulled the poster off the wall.

 

“I’m sure he’d like you to have this,” he said quietly. “He worked on it for a long time.”

 

Bane accepted the sheet of paper, and then left without a word.

 

-.-.-.-

 

The next morning John was sipping the cheap coffee he’d bought from a gas station on the way to work.

 

He repeated his manta, over and over, but he still couldn’t help but flinch when Damian ran up to his desk and practically bounced with excitement.

 

“You let him have the picture,” he whispered it like it was a scandalous secret.

 

“I did.” John set his coffee to the side. “He liked it didn’t he?”

 

“He put it up over his desk.” Damian looked down, smiling a little, twisting his hands together. “He said you seemed like a good man.” 

 

And just like that, John’s ears and neck started burning. He didn’t blush visibly thank God, but he felt the pleased rush of blood under his skin. A large man with a little boy thought he was attractive. He was discovering kinks he’d never known he had. He smiled, “that’s good.”

 

Damian nodded vigorously, smiling in a way that was too reminiscent of Talia to be safe. “Did he seem good to you?”

 

“I suppose…” John said cautiously.

 

Then Damian glanced at John’s chair, then his coffee, and then the crappy watch on his wrist that hadn’t ticked in several years. “He has a lot of money.”

 

“Uh,”

 

“And he made the men stop coming around this part of town so it’d be safer.”

 

Damian was beaming so brightly that John couldn’t bring himself to say anything other than, “How nice.”

 

Damian went back to his seat, grinning like a cat who’d caught the canary.

 

John tried not to think anything of it.   

 

-.-.-.-

 

On Wednesday morning John stepped into the teacher’s lounge, muttering his mantra.

 

He saw J’onn, who taught third grade, and Hal, who taught fifth. They were talking quietly to each other, but paused and stared as soon as they spotted John.

 

John glanced down at himself, but nothing looked amiss. He looked back up but they were glancing pointedly to the counter with the… Oh.

 

The broken coffee pot he’d gotten so used to seeing was gone. In its place was a beautiful, brand new Breville with several different bags beside it. John’s mouth watered just looking at it and smelling the scent percolating out of it.

 

“Where did that come from?” He asked when he was able to form a coherent thought.

 

Hal shrugged and ducked out of the room, but J’onn came closer. “From an admirer,” he said. “Apparently you made a good impression on someone.”

 

“Okay.” John honestly barely heard him over extreme need for delicious caffeine. He’d grown up smelling Folgers, but whatever was brewing was some other shit.

 

He poured himself a cup and went to prepare his classroom. The taste of it was complete and utter ecstasy.

 

Getting the day started was a little easier that day. He stood up and smiled (with dimples) at every parent who poked their heads in to make sure their kids made it safely to their seats. Parents Night always made them a little more protective.

 

John knew this, but he was very honestly surprised to see a familiar giant shadow behind Damian.

 

“Mr. Blake!” Damian’s tiny hand barely wrapped around two of Bane’s fingers as he dragged the large man into the classroom. “Did you like it, did you?”

 

“Did I like what?” John asked standing and smiling briefly at Bane.

 

Damian looked at his cup and grinned. “We got you a present. You like it, right?”

 

John looked down at his cup too.

 

Oh.

 

… _Oh_.

 

His smile strained, but he held on valiantly. “I liked it a lot.”

 

“Good.” Damian nodded firmly, “I’ll go sit down.” He looked up at Bane and seemed to make a very pointed expression. Then he slowly backed away from the two of them.

 

As soon as Damian seemed distracted by Kon-El, John turned to Bane. “Was the coffee maker in the lounge from you?”

 

Bane nodded slightly, the scarf didn’t move with his face. John caught a brief flash of a straight nose and full lips. “To thank you for your hard work.”

 

“Oh,” John looked down. _I am understanding. I’m making the world a better place. I’m not a Lifetime movie and I will not be weird at a student’s…legal guardian._ His mantra needed work.

 

Bane shifted from foot to foot, staring at John. He stared clear up until the bell rang.

 

It jarred both of them, but John recovered first. “I should—”

 

“I apologize.” Bane stared another couple of seconds, and then he slipped out the door. It occurred to John that his footsteps were completely silent.

 

He waited until his face stopped burning, and then he bid the class good morning.

 

Much later, on his lunch break, listening to the radio, John heard Bane’s name mentioned again. It seemed he was under investigation- something about a drug ring and millions of dollars. John turned up the radio and tried to pay attention over the sound of the other teachers chatting.

 

Then he realized, one of his kids was the son of a drug lord.  


	2. Chapter 2

_I’m making the world a better place for them._

 

John did his best not to let the news affect the way he treated Damian. After all, he was being raised by criminals, in an unstable environment, with a mother like Talia (maybe he was being too tough on her, but she just rubbed him the wrong way). And sure Bane seemed like a big, semi-menacing teddy bear in the classroom, but who knew what he was like at home.

 

Okay, so maybe John went a little out of his way to coddle Damian the past week. Damian seemed to enjoy it, and the rest of the kids were too caught up in the giant new rat cage for Nibbles, and the brand new collection of Just So Stories and Dr. Seuss books that appeared on their shelves overnight.

 

“Did you seriously just give him a butterscotch?”

 

The kids were on the wood-chipped playground area playing turtle tag for PE. John and Selina watched from the sidelines, making sure everyone was participating.

 

At first he tried to ignore the question. One opening and she’d give him shit for the entire period, and since the fridge in the lounge broke, he just really wasn’t in the fucking mood.

 

Selina swatted his arm. “I’m serious; you’re the creepy guy who’s giving a little kid candy.”

 

“It’s not creepy.” John protested, rubbing his arm even though it didn’t really hurt. “He fell, he looked sad.” Truthfully, Damian had been fine.

 

“He was fine.” Selina rolled her eyes, “be more obvious with your favoritism, I don’t think _everyone_ at the high school down the street have noticed yet.”

 

“I’m not playing favorites.” Yes he was.

 

“Yes you are.” Selina put her hands on her hips, “Look, I like you, so I’m going to spend the twenty seconds pretending I give a shit.”

 

He frowned; they weren’t supposed to swear around the kids.

 

“Lay off that one, okay? We all met his parents and they’re… They’re a dangerous family, and they wouldn’t even be allowed to enroll that one here if our fuck-head of a principal didn’t have a weird thing going with Talia,” she spat the name.

 

“I heard about that.” The danger part, not about Bruce Wayne having a ‘thing’ with Talia, but he didn’t bother asking about it. He’d been there for exactly one rant of bitterness from Selina, and it had been full of violent gesturing, inventive use of the fuck-word, and completely uncontrolled volume.

 

“You know little Barbara Gordon?”

 

He briefly thought of a redheaded girl in the fourth grade who liked doing flips off the swings whenever Principal Wayne walked by. He nodded.

 

“Well she likes to go through her dad’s case files.” Selina leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “It’s not just drugs. They’re looking to pin illegal weapons manufacturing and distribution on the entire family. The only thing holding them back is the fact that no judge will grant a warrant. They’re all too scared of the backlash from the Al-Ghuls.”

 

That did sound about right. But then the bell rang and Damian ran straight for John, asking if he’d seen something or another.

 

John’s heart melted pathetically, and he called everyone inside for story time.

 

-.-.-.-

 

That Friday morning John walked into the lounge ready to fall upon their fancy, drug money coffee pot. And then he saw it; the stainless steel LG refrigerator with French doors and a bottom freezer.

 

He stared at it for a few halting seconds, expecting it to evaporate the moment he blinked. Any second their shitty, off-white fridge from the 80’s that constantly spoiled food would reappear and John would switch to decaf.

 

But no, it was real. He peeked inside and was so shocked he started laughing. It was fully stocked with fresh, organic foods that he’d never heard of.

 

“Found the fridge, have you?” Shayera, she saw to a class of fifth graders, leaned against the doorjamb.

 

“This is insane,” John wiped a tear away. “Did Bruce do this? Did he finally decide to stop being a complete tight-ass?”

 

Shayera smirked, “I doubt it. They delivered it around five this morning. There was sticky note that said it was from an admirer.”

 

John’s mirth instantly faded. “Oh… From an admirer to who?”

 

“ _Whom._ And it didn’t say.”

 

“…Oh.”

 

On his way to his classroom, John remembered the other day during snack time. He’d put a few frozen burritos in the freezer for days when he forgot to bring something from home and didn’t feel up to cafeteria food. (It was terrible, everyone brought food from home.)

 

Damian had seen John at his desk, miserably sipping a paper cup of tap water to try and fill his empty stomach, and graciously shared his graham crackers.

 

All through class he thought about the new books, toys, and appliances. They were all from Bane, there was no question, but what did he want, special treatment for Damian? That was basically all John had to offer, and he was very obviously already doing it. Besides, wouldn’t it be easier to threaten him?

 

He’d googled the fridge while the kids were practicing their writing and nearly fainted at the price tag.

 

“Mr. Blake,” John started and looked down at Damian.

 

He smiled, “Yes?”

 

Damian twisted the hem of his shirt, eyes flicking between John and the whiteboard. “Do you like flowers?”

 

“I suppose so,” John said slowly.

 

“What’s your favorite kind?”

 

John chuckled, “Any flowers I guess. But can I tell you a secret?” Damian nodded vigorously, so John leaned closer. “My favorite plant is actually moss.”    

 

Damian giggled his behind his hands and John sent him back to his seat. At some point he’d switched with Timmy Drake. John would have to fix that, because if left sitting next to each other Timmy and Kon tended to disappear into their own world and ignore the lessons.

 

John wished sometimes he could ignore the lessons. He could just curl up under his desk and run through theories about Bane until something made viable sense. ~~Or he could think about Bane’s mouth and masturbate, but not in a kindergarten classroom because that was a line he wasn’t prepared to cross.~~  

 

_I’m helping kids._

 

-.-.-.-

 

At the end of the day John was already making a mental list of all the types of alcohol he was going to buy and use to destroy his liver. His weekend was finally starting and he just wanted to stop about anything to do with drugs, or crime lords, or ridiculously attractive, _large_ men who apparently bribed people with appliances.

 

Damian was holding Nibbles, while Gar Logan read them a story about giving a mouse a cookie. At some point he’d gotten bored and started making up his own narrative.

 

“Bane!” Damian rushed to the doorway that Bane was rather suddenly darkening. “Look how fat Nibbles is!” He held the rat up for inspection.

 

“Okay,” John cut in when Nibbles squeaked fearfully. “Time to put him away, he’s probably hungry from hearing all about that cookie.” Or had Gar turned it into a pizza? He couldn’t remember.

 

Damian took Nibbles back to the cage, talking loudly about how nice the cage was, and how many snacks and toys were in it. Gar joined in, mostly because he enjoyed being loud.

 

Bane came to stand in front of the desk and John had to lean his head back so much just to look him in the eye that he opted to stand. He smiled vacantly, waiting for something to react to but Bane just stood.

 

“I—” He what? John cleared his throat and started over. “It’s good to see you again.”

 

_Be more obvious_. It couldn’t be good for his health to hear Selina’s voice in his head. “The kids, they love the cage.” Did that come out wrong? “I mean for Nibbles, not…Not they like being in it.”

 

Bane looked at the cage as if it were the first time he’d seen it.

 

What if it was? John didn’t doubt that Bane paid for all the new things the room was getting, but he could have very easily sent someone else to do the actual purchasing. Probably not Talia, maybe the third person in their family picture, or a lackey.

 

He stopped the train of thought before it could occur to him, yet again, that their rat was living in a cage bought with drug (and maybe weapons) money.

 

“So, any big plans for the weekend?” He wasn’t a particularly social person but seriously Bane was starting to seem like a conversation black hole.

 

“The zoo.”

 

“We are?” Damian came back, this time with his backpack over one shoulder. “When? Are we going tomorrow? I wanted to invite Mr. Blake to dinner.” At this he turned and beamed up at John.

 

  “Oh I couldn’t. I’ve got some things to do this evening.” John patted Damian’s head apologetically. “But don’t worry; I’ll see you on Monday.”

 

“What do you have to do?” asked Damian.

 

“Uh, well, grocery shopping, cleaning, just little things that I save for the weekend.” John looked to Bane for help. Bane was frowning ever so slightly. 

“So, uh,” John felt like he wanted to gesture, but he had no idea what to do with his hands. They flopped uselessly in the air before he turned away. “Gar, do you need me to call your parents?”

 

“No,” said Gar. “I was just staying so Damian wouldn’t be lonely. My house is across the street.”

 

“Oh.” John deflated, “Well, I guess that means we can all get going.”

 

And he knew he wasn’t imagining it when he left. Bane and Damian waited on the steps of the school, watching him as he climbed into his car and drove away. It wasn’t only a little excruciating.

 

-.-.-.-

 

John managed a quick shower and a change into some sweats before he went to the store. It was only a few blocks away from his house but he still drove. He was a heat wimp and it would still be too hot for him to comfortably go for a walk for another couple of months.

 

He was just wandering past the frozen foods aisle when he heard his name being… not ‘called’ but said forcefully enough that it cut through the usual supermarket sounds.

 

He turned around to find Talia Al-Ghul sauntering up to him and radiating amusement. “What a coincidence,” she purred. “I was just here to pick up a few things.”

 

“Ms. Al-Ghul,” John nodded. He’d looked over a class list in the beginning of the semester. He didn’t know the address precisely off the top of his head, but he knew very well that the Al-Ghul’s lived ten minutes up the freeway in the opposite direction of his part of town.

 

“Call me Talia, please.” She didn’t sound like she meant it.

 

John pressed his lips together in a sad imitation of his practice teacher-smile. “I’ll let get back to it then,” he tried to slip past her, but she stepped in his way.

 

“Nonsense. Damian will be pleased to see you.” Her answering smile could only be described as shark-like.

 

“Mr. Blake!” Damian came barreling from around the corner, as if he’d been hiding there, listening for his name.

 

 He was followed by a scarf-less Bane, and a scarf-ed stranger. Maybe only one of them was allowed to wear a scarf at a time?

 

“Damian,” John looked up at Bane. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Grocery shopping,” said the stranger. “What are you doing here?”

 

It was in that moment that John realized they were looking into his basket and judging his selection of tequila and nutty bars.

 

He straightened up like he wasn’t an angry man with several addictions and a sweet tooth. “I’m just stocking up,” he smiled brightly. “I’ll see you on Monday, Damian.”

 

Damian nodded, “Bye Mr. Blake.”

 

“You can call me John.” He nodded to Talia and the stranger and possibly ogled Bane surreptitiously. “Goodbye.”

 

He paid for his items, went home, and then drank half the bottle.

 

-.-.-.-

 

On Monday morning, Bane was there to drop off Damian. He hovered by John’s desk until the rest of the parents cleared out, and then he handed John a flower pot with moss in it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story, I promised myself that as when this got 600 hits, I'd update, no matter where I was. 
> 
> True Story a: I got day drunk for this chapter even though I work tomorrow. This is very literally a story I'm only going to work on while drunk. 
> 
> PS- another short fucking chapter. Chapter three is probably going to have to be around 5 or 6k words. 
> 
> pps- im so sorry to anyone who is reading this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so funny story it turns out im dragging this out because i cant drink again until this weekend and dont want to take that long to update. so uh, here, to tide you over.

Then Bane showed up the next morning and loomed in the corner for only a few minutes before leaving Damian holding an old, ragged teddy bear. Past experience taught John to be afraid it was his next gift, but Damian kept it to himself.

 

The next morning Bane was barely in the door before Damian abandoned him. He’d come to stand next to John, closer than polite, but answered all of John’s attempts at conversation with monosyllabic noises. That time he stayed for an agonizing fifteen minutes.

 

The _next_ morning, John got to the school around six because Thursdays were shorter and he had to pack a little more into their workload. He was sleep rumpled in a sweatshirt, black tie, and white shirt, but there’d be time to finish getting cleaned up before anywas saw him—oh Bane was standing on the steps of the school.

 

He was looking straight at John, so it was too late to make an escape and find another door. Who the fuck would be at school this early? Damian wasn’t even with him; he was just standing there in a long aviation coat and holding a Starbucks cup.

 

John noticed these things because he hadn’t had coffee yet and was seething with jealously. Also that coat was really doing things for Bane’s already impressive figure. Pity it was probably about seventy degrees out and the coat was probably hot as fuck.

 

He forced down his irritation.

 

“Good morning,” he waved as he approached. “You’re about an hour early.”

 

Bane wordlessly held out the cup.

 

“Uh,” John stared at it and asked dumbly. “Is that for me?”

 

Bane nodded and offered it more insistently.

 

“Okay…” John took it and tried to subtly look around the lid for poison. “Great, thanks I’ll just—” He stopped himself before he said ‘drink it.’ Because clearly he would drink it, the strange coffee from the well know criminal. _Legit_.

 

“It’s hazelnut.”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “Hm?”

 

Bane was staring down at the cup; his lips were starting to turn down as though the cup had failed him somehow. Unnerving as it was, John raised it to his mouth and took a cautious sip and oh, it was a hazelnut macchiato.

 

He smiled, “It’s good, thanks.”

 

Somewhere in the distance he could swear he heard a cricket cough. “So,” he looked around at the parking lot. A few other teachers were there, but he quickly spotted a black SUV parked in the loading and unloading zone.  “Where’s Damian?”

 

“He’s sleeping in the car.”

 

“What?” John reared back and demanded, “Why is he sleeping in the car, no, you know what? Why are you here this early?”

 

Bane frowned, looking puzzled.

 

John rolled his eyes. “Why did you bring Damian to school this early?”

 

“He wanted to come, but he couldn’t stay awake.” Bane gestured to the cup, “We brought you coffee.”

 

It was the tone of voice he used when he said it that completely disarmed John’s anger. He relaxed his shoulders little by little. Bane sounded…softer. He didn’t speak with any type of actual abruptness but just then, it was so…

 

John realized he was staring at Bane’s mouth and immediately looked away. “Oh,” he said, “I… Thank you.”

 

Bane nodded curtly and turned on his heel.

 

John watched him walk back to the SUV and drive away. If Bane was going to come all the way here, just to leave again, why hadn’t he just brought coffee when he dropped Damian off? He shook his head and went inside.

 

That morning, the stranger with the scarf—although he wasn’t wearing a scarf this time—dropped Damian off.

 

He glared once at John, and then left.

 

-.-.-.-

 

On Friday morning it was Talia. She walked in with Damian a step behind her, and then she shooed him to his desk. John felt himself start to bristle, but then he saw her looking after the little boy with the same soft look Bane used.

 

He smiled and nodded when her eyes turned to him.

 

She cocked an eyebrow and left.

 

-.-.-.-

 

John felt like he was in the middle of a melodrama.

 

He took another swing from him half-empty bottle of cheap tequila and sank further into his couch. The Al-Ghuls were messing with him, it was obvious. He wasn’t sure if Damian was actually in on it, or if he was an unwitting participant.

 

He was so deep in his self-pitying misery that he almost missed his phone buzzing in his pocket—which **no** , it was Saturday evening. No one was supposed to bother him.

 

“Hello?” He grumbled into the phone.

 

“ _Mr. Blake?_ ”

 

John straightened up and set his tequila down. “Damian?”

 

“ _I got your phone number out the director!_ ”

 

Directory, John’s mind translated.

 

“ _What are you doing?_ ”

 

“Doing?” Certainly not getting shitfaced with IT Crowd playing on the TV and Honyock playing on his MP3 player, nope, that would be pathetic. “I’m, uh, reading.”

 

“ _What are you reading?_ ”

 

“… Oliver Twist?” John rolled his eyes at himself.

 

“ _Oh._ ” There was talking in the background. John strained to listen it, but it was all quiet murmuring and…Was it…

 

“Damian, are you in a car?”

 

Damian squealed happily. “ _I found your address in the director!_ ”

 

This time John heard a very distinct sound of a car door shutting. No, no, no, nonono. He jumped up and quickly screwed the lid back onto the tequila bottle. There were footsteps coming up the concrete stairs of his apartment building. John stared down at the coffee table, littered with candy wrappers, dirty plates, and a half eaten hot pocket.

 

There was no time to clean it all up. John paced back and forth, waving his arms as if he could banish the mess. He was probably being ridiculous, Damian had probably just gotten bored and called John during a long car ride. After all—

 

There was a knock at the door. John panicked, grabbed his couch and flipped it on top of the table.

 

The resulting thump and crash drew more insistent knocking from the door, and from his neighbors downstairs.

 

John took a deep breath and smoothed his hair on his way to answer the door. He looked through the peephole then dropped his head completely against the door.

 

“Mr. Blake?” Damian sounded like his face was pushed against the crack of the door. “Are you in there?”

 

What the actual fuck?

 

“Yeah,” he undid the latch and opened the door. “Yeah uh…”

 

It was only Bane, again with the scarf, and Damian. John smiled, but he knew it came out toothier and more like a snarl. “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?” Because his address sure as Hell was not in the school directory given to the students.

 

“We were getting dinner.” Damian recited it like he’d been rehearsing all day.

 

Bane didn’t bother answering though. He tilted his head to the side and looked pointedly at the mess of John’s living room. “Are we interrupting your reading?”

 

 “No I was just…flipping things over. What are you doing here?” He reached out and tugged Bane’s scarf down to reveal his face.

 

Yup, he’d figured, Bane was smirking at him. John gulped when his ears started to burn. This close he could see little scars peppering all over Bane’s face. They weren’t too bad, just flecks of tissue here and there that stood out against his tanned skin.

 

Then he looked up, and Bane’s eyes were close and silvery and fringed with long eyelashes.

 

“Uh,” John jerked himself away. “I’m, uh, what?” He looked around for Damian, but the little boy had settled in front of the TV without a word. Okay, no.

 

Bane moved him to the side with a hand on his hip. It was more than a little distracting, but as soon as he began poking at John’s upside-down couch, that was it.

 

“ _Kitchen_ ,” he hissed, tugging on Bane’s sleeve.

 

The kitchen was small, but separated from the living room and entryway by a thin door. John closed it and glared accusingly at Bane. “Okay, so, what are you doing here?”

 

“Damian wanted to see you,” Bane sounded like he thought it was all the explanation needed.

 

“I’m drunk!” John moaned, falling back against the counter. “I don’t want one of my students and his, you’re his dad or something, right? I don’t want you in my apartment!”

 

Bane just frowned at him.

 

John frowned back. But then he got bored and shoved Bane’s huge shoulders. “This place is a mess, you can’t bring a kid here.”

 

Bane frowned more than John had ever seen. It wrinkled his nose a little and John could feel his blood moving faster. “Hey,” he murmured, pushing Bane’s shoulders again. “Hey do you—”

 

And then the power went out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE READING AND COMMENTING ON THIS...THING <3


	4. Chapter 4

_I’m making the world a better place for them._

 

On Monday morning John sat at his desk with his head in his hands. After the power went out on Saturday night, he’d spent nearly ten minutes shooing Damian and Bane out of his apartment.

 

He couldn’t do it.

 

He was trying, but that didn’t mean their families could make his life weird as hell. For God’s sake, they’d come to his house. He loved Damian, but whatever game his wildly attractive surrogate father was trying to play, it had to end.

 

The door opened.

 

John startled and looked up- it was still a while before the first bell, almost everyone was still mulling around in the halls, or outside- Damian walked in alone.

 

He was solemn faced, like he’d been in the beginning of the year, “Mr. Blake,” he said. “This has to stop.”

 

“Uh.” He’d never said the phrase so many times in his life than this past week. “What?”

 

Damian sighed like a put upon parent. “All of this with Bane,” he waved his hand over the classroom. “It has to stop.”

 

Well…that was uncanny. “I—”

 

“He wanted to buy you a house,” Damian interrupted with a scowl. “Barsad stopped him but… I thought you were different.”

 

“Damian, I have no idea—”

 

“He’s nervous around you,” Damian rubbed his eyes, he looked like he was about to cry. John always found it annoying when people cried.

 

“He’s not a helpless victim. He’s a drug lord.” Oh shit, was that inappropriate to say?

 

“Technically my mom is the drug lord, Bane is a mercenary.”

 

John gaped at him.

 

“But that’s beside the point,” Damian huffed. “What are you doing with Bane?”

 

“I’m not doing anything with Bane!” John’s voice cracked. Five year olds did not usually talk like this.

 

“He likes you.” The teary expression left Damian’s face instantly.

 

John blinked for two seconds before the words sank in. His face flared up. “Damian—”

 

“Do you like him?” Damian pulled a small cellphone out of his pocket and started hitting keys. “It seems like you do, so there’s no problem, right?”

 

Why was this his life? John sighed, “Damian, it’s not that simple.”

 

“Yes it is.” Damian held up the phone, smiling his bubbly smile. “I just texted him and told him that you like him to and that he should come inside. Simple.”  

 

No, no, no, no. _I’m an understanding person. I don’t choke out children._ “Damien, whatever you think is going on between Bane and I, it’s not…what you think.” He held his hand out, “Give me your phone. You shouldn’t have it in class anyway.”

 

Damien looked thoroughly unimpressed, and then looked down at his vibrating phone. He looked back up, blue eyes glinting. “He’s coming in now so you two can talk.”

 

“Damien—”

 

“I’ll wait outside.” Damien bolted out the door, and John was seriously considering following him.

 

This was ridiculous. He wasn’t a romantic comedy. He wasn’t going to have a little boy be his matchmaker, or his surrogate son, or anything else. Why? Because his life wasn’t being directed by Woody Allen, and he was a comic foil, or a love interest, he was a regular guy trying to enrich the lives of future generations.

 

That was the exact monologue John was triumphantly reciting in his head when Bane stepped into the room. John puffed out his chest and snapped, “I’m not an idiot.”

 

Bane froze, one foot still lingering in the doorway. John took this as a good sign and continued. “I don’t know what you people have planned exactly, but I’m a rational human being and I can see what’s going on. So,” he spread his arms out. “What do you want?”

 

Bane kept watching him as he cautiously moved further into the room. Finally he rumbled, “I thought I’d been clear.”

 

“Not so much.” John crossed his arms because it was tiring to hold them up for long.

 

“Oh,” Bane frowned and it wrinkled his nose a little. “Damien said—”

 

“Damien is under the impression that you want to date me, don’t listen to him.” But then Bane was staring at him and it was started to deflate John’s bluster. “Because you uh, you don’t actually want to, right?”

 

“I told them,” Bane growled, more to himself than at John. “I told them the house was necessary.”

 

John was positive he heard Damien snicker in the hallway. He shook his head frantically, “Please,” He begged. “Please tell me you weren’t actually going to buy me a house.”

 

Bane raised his eyebrows and it was all the answer John needed. He couldn’t help it, he started to chuckle.

 

Bane didn’t seem to share his amusement. His frown deepened until John stood up and held his hands out. “That’s bullshit,” he said, still grinning. “I don’t believe it.”

 

It was only because John was looking directly at him that he noticed the minute shift in Bane’s muscles and posture. And then all at once the man seemed ten stories tall with a dark, crackling aura that John had always expected from him. He never realized how much Bane toned it down.

 

“If you were not interested,” Bane said lowly. “You could have simply said so.”

 

“What?” John said dumbly. But then Bane started to leave, so he threw himself out of his chair and marched around the desk. “No, don’t leave; just give me a second to…absorb!”

 

Bane glared down at him skeptically.

 

“What?” If John hadn’t actively been fighting the urge to cower he would have smacked Bane on the arm. He stepped tentatively closer until they were sharing breathing space, like in John’s kitchen. “You didn’t need a second outside to collect yourself?”

 

Well, _shit_ , his life really was a romantic comedy. John stood on his tip toes so that he was nose to nose with Bane, and kissed him. Only a small one that he tried to break quickly, but Bane caught him around the waist and pulled him back up for another. And another. And another.

 

And then Bane was biting at his lips until John’s mouth dropped open to whimper. His hands were fisted into Bane’s coat as he tried to maintain his balance while Bane plundered his mouth. It was incredible, everything John thought it would be and more, wrapped up in Bane’s strong arms, with his tongue twisting so intoxicatingly around John’s.

 

He never would have thought at the beginning of the school year that he’d be pushed up against his desk, making out with one of his student’s parents… John slowly stopped participating in the kiss until it was all Bane.

 

“Wait,” he muttered. “Wait, wait, wait, Bane stop, we can’t do this here.”

 

Bane pulled back slightly and looked at him. “Why not?”

 

“It’s a kindergarten classroom!” He pushed on Bane’s shoulders. “And I’m pretty sure you’re a mercenary now?”

 

“When I have to be,” Bane said dismissively.

 

John dropped his head against Bane’s shoulder. “Your family is draining,” he sighed. “We’ll talk later, okay? My kids are going to be here soon.”

 

“Very well,” Bane ran his hand up and down John’s back. John couldn’t help but shiver at how large it felt.

 

“Great,” he stepped back and started to lean up. Then he paused because Bane was too tall to reach if he didn’t lean down. “Uh…”

 

“Oh,” Bane got the message, but they nearly bumped noses a few times before Bane grabbed John’s jaw and held him still. They kissed once, but it was slow and lingering, and then they parted.

 

“Can you um,” John cleared his throat. “Can you send Damien in?”

 

“Of course.” Bane’s eyes glinted as he moved away. “I will collect you both after school.”

 

“Get out; I have to scold your child!”

 

Damien sidled in after Bane left and stared up at John expectantly. “Well?”

 

There was so much more that he and Bane needed to talk about— specifically the illegal activities that Damien was apparently more than aware of. Still, John smiled down at the little boy, “I suppose we’re dating.”

 

“ _Finally_ ,” Damien pulled out his phone.

 

“Who are you texting now?” John made a grab for the phone, but Damien was shockingly fast.

 

“My mom and Barsad, they’ll be wanting to meet you again.” Damien clicked the send button.

 

How had he possibly forgotten those two? John groaned softly, “I’m getting coffee.”

 

“Just be back before the bell,” Damien called after him.

 

“Go sit down, Mr. Al-Ghul!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright kiddies, well I better end it here because I don't get the chance to drink as often as I'd like and every time I'm sober I stare at this fic on horror. Thanks everyone for reading, hope you enjoyed it and uh, I'm sorry. I'm honestly just really sorry.


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